Here the music begins, the scheme is outlined.
The tree is falling and the withered rose flies.
The poem is composed of petals and needles.
The ball slows down. Dawn breaks.
Our time is fading. Confused quotes
Outlines are vague, authors are anonymous.
As if underdeveloped, vaguely filmed
Our indistinct holidays, long name days.
And, on the contrary, are distinct, from under the make-up and cream,
Our clear sorrows, bright delusions
In the twilight they arise. A poem is being formed.
Mozart turns pale. The ball slows down.
Another year is over, a new one has hardly begun.
The rabbit is replaced by a lizard, as if you were asleep and delirious.
However, all these idols hardly mean anything,
If the omen is correct: you will spend the year as you meet.
Somewhere in the West, in the homeland of Uncle Sam,
Or in the East, in the yellow country of squint,
Also now, probably, a poem is being formed,
Music is composed, the figure is molded.
Our time is fading, generous for parting.
If the omen is correct: you will spend the year as you meet.
Somewhere in the West, in the homeland of Uncle Sam,
Or in the East, in the yellow country of squint,
Also now, probably, a poem is being formed,
Music is composed, the figure is molded.
Our time is fading, generous for parting.
We hear nothing, only dull tremors.
It is a shame to have complaints about this weak sound.
Let us be condescending to this ancient element.
Basically, what do we need besides wine and jam?
The festivities go on, the blows go on.
Besides, be that as it may, a poem is being formed.
When the predictions cease, the memoirs will speak.
Than to give preference to thorns or roses,
Than to protect the lamp, turning it away from the wind,
Isn't it better to confine ourselves to the Hamlet question
And not to despair without getting an answer?
The Danish heir dies, the problem remains.
Requiem unfinished, the continuation is approaching.
Our time is fading, a poem is being formed.
The ball slows down. Slows down movement.
